The Edge of Perfection
by Cobrilee
Summary: Three months ago, Stiles made his choice. He made the wrong one, sort of, and Lydia knows it. She also knows how to fix it. Now she just needs to figure out how to get Derek on board with it. Sequel to The Edge of Heaven and Hell. **STORY AND SERIES COMPLETE**
1. Prologue

**A/N: This can be seen as the conclusion to the trilogy, even though there's a fourth installment. That one's stalled out for me, though, so I'm not making any promises on when it'll get posted. Especially since I seem to be getting attacked by Sterek plot bunnies right and left. I would complain about that, but I'm loving it too much. LOL**

 **I know that this particular trio isn't the most popular thing out there, so if you're reading this series, and _especially_ if you're enjoying it, please let me know. I love hearing from people who can see the potential of Sterydia, it makes me feel less alone. :) I will always welcome constructive criticism, too, so if you have issues with something, tell me so! (Although troll posts, such as the person who accused me of writing trash fic just to be able to pathetically place myself in the story with the two guys, will get deleted. FYI.) **

They'd kissed, a lot. Stiles loved that about his time with Derek. There hadn't been any of the _Pretty Woman_ -esque refusal to kiss for fear that it would lead to the dreaded _feelings_. They'd kissed hard, and often, and it never failed to lead to sex, and Stiles loved it.

The first time they'd _kissed_ , one that didn't involve battling tongues and chasing each other's mouths and power and hunger, one that was soft, sweet, the gentle meeting of tongues as they traced lazily against each other, _that_ kiss was the one that had blown Stiles' mind. It was when he began to realize he actually _cared_ about Derek. When he began to realize he was screwed, because he was falling head over heels for a man who'd made it clear he had no use for relationships and had been hurt and betrayed one too many times to ever fall for _that_ kind of bullshit again, thankyouverymuch.

When he thinks about it, After, that's his go-to memory. The one he always relives first. They'd been sitting on Derek's couch, the fantastic burgundy pillowy thing that had been the site of many wonderful times in Stiles's life, both sexually and nap-related, because damn did he nap well on it. They'd been sitting next to each other, Stiles doing his trig homework while Derek read. They'd had sex and it had been incredible as always, but Stiles wasn't inclined to leave and Derek wasn't inclined to make him go. So Stiles had pulled out his trig book and Derek pulled out some tome on supernatural creatures that Stiles had always meant to borrow, but then it was After and Derek was gone and anyway, Stiles would have been too intimidated to ask him about it, so he didn't.

But the kiss.

Stiles had yawned, twisting his body to work out the kinks that had developed from hunching over the stupid textbook, and his shoulder had brushed Derek's. Derek had looked up at him, a soft smile playing around the corners of his lips, and Stiles freaking _loved_ that smile so much because it was _his_ Derek's smile, not the smirk of the asshole alpha he'd come to know and sort-of loathe. And before he could rethink his hasty decision, he was leaning in, pressing his lips lightly against Derek's. Derek had stilled, allowing Stiles to take his time exploring, and then Stiles' hand was curled around the back of his neck and pulling forward, gently, and they'd sighed against each other and it had been fucking _perfect_.

He loved Lydia, but that kiss haunted his dreams. _Derek_ haunted his dreams.

There were times that he wondered if maybe Derek had been warming up to the idea of happily-ever-after. There had been moments when he felt like they'd been getting there, and times when he wondered if he'd thoroughly fucked up by choosing Lydia before he knew, for certain, what Derek wanted. But Lydia was the one he was _supposed_ to choose. He'd been in love with her for forever, and she was the one he always imagined spending happily-ever-after with. He had gotten everything he'd ever wanted when she told him his feelings weren't one-sided.

Hadn't he?

Every once in awhile he thought about that night at the loft, after he'd freaked out and practically tried to strip Derek from his clothes before getting two feet in the door. Derek's unwillingness to just be used for sex when there was clearly something else going on had unnerved him. The cuddling on the couch, Derek touching him in a way that was far more intimate than sex, the reading aloud until Stiles had fallen asleep… That was _something_.

There had been other moments. One time Derek had come out to fix Roscoe with him when he wasn't cooperating. Stiles had been under the hood, grumbling under his breath and making vague threats of violence when the vehicle refused to turn on, interspersed with apologies for doubting his baby. Derek had been teasing him from the driver's seat, dutifully trying the ignition periodically as instructed. When the ignition finally caught and the Jeep roared to life, Stiles had emerged triumphantly, a smear of grease across one cheekbone. Derek had this funny look on his face and wiped at the smear with his thumb, dragging it slowly across the soft skin until all traces of the grease were gone. Stiles' breath had caught when Derek's searching gaze had captured his and didn't release it until long after he was done.

Then there was the time Stiles was ranting about the way Finstock had slammed him, _again_ , in front of the entire class. Everyone had been laughing at him and his blood had been boiling, but he had to play it off as he always did, shooting sarcastic rejoinders and shrugging as if it meant nothing, but really, it pissed him off. He loved Coach, he did, but sometimes he just really _hated_ being the butt of everyone's jokes. Derek's jaw had tightened, a little at first, then a little more, until he was practically grinding his teeth together and Stiles had to stop talking because when Derek's eyes flashed red he realized the wolf's jaw was about to snap. He'd been afraid Coach might end up the recipient of a terrifying late-night visit. And in that moment, he'd marveled, _Holy shit, he's_ furious _about how I was treated. Huh._

If he was honest with himself, he hadn't really intended to end his thing with Derek that day when he went over. He was prepared for it to not go well, but until Derek had lost his shit at the news, he hadn't _really_ realized it was over. And he hadn't been prepared at _all_ for how devastating it was to walk away.

He loved Lydia. He _did_. But there were times when he wondered if choosing her was a mistake.

Sometimes he thought she knew. The way she'd cock her head and narrow her eyes at him speculatively, the way she studied him until he felt like she was examining his soul, rattled him. He'd tried his hardest not to let her see that there was something missing in his life because he _never_ wanted her to feel like she was a consolation prize, but he didn't think he was always successful at covering up how much he missed Derek.

It didn't matter, in the end. He'd chosen Lydia. He'd walked away from Derek. Even if he wanted to beg Derek's forgiveness and plead for a second chance, even if he thought Derek wouldn't pound him flatter than Grandma Stilinski's nalesnikis for daring to speak to him again, he would never hurt Lydia like that. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than only getting half his love, for that matter, but that was a secret he'd take with him to the grave.

Sometimes, when he's allowed himself to escape reality by indulging in fantasy, he thinks about what it would be like if he hadn't had to choose. If he could have Derek and Lydia both. He knows it's pointless to speculate, but in those moments when he gets lost in his own head, he can almost see it. Can almost believe he could make it work.

But that would be crazy.

Wouldn't it?

 **A/N 2: Nalesnikis (nah-lesh-NEE-kees) are Polish crepes, FYI. Just so you don't have to Google, if you haven't already. :)**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I didn't write this story as a chaptered story, I wrote it all as one doc with multiple scenes. Instead of trying to post approximately the same number of words per chapter, I'm just going to post each scene as a chapter, which will mean some will be shorter and some will be longer. This is a slightly shorter chapter, so I'm going to bump up my posting timetable and post the next chapter next week, so you don't have to wait as long for Sterek stuff. :)**

 **Also, if anyone is interested, I'm working on a new series of oneshots which involve Stiles and Derek texting each other, because I love the idea of them communicating like that for some reason. There are two stories posted already, and I have a third one written and it's just awaiting approval by my beta. So keep an eye out for that to be posted hopefully tomorrow.**

"Stiles, sweetie, I really need to get up now."

Stiles mumbled a little in his sleep, throwing his leg over Lydia's thighs to join the arm slung across her rib cage. She looked down at him in affectionate amusement, pushing his arm off of her and wiggling her hips to try to dislodge his leg. "Mmm," he groaned happily, snuggling deeper into her side.

She was less amused by now. "Stiles Stilinski!" she whispered sharply. "Get _off_ of me! I have to go to the bathroom."

He opened one eye, squinting up at her exasperated face. "You can hold it another few minutes, can't you?"

"I could, but then I'd probably end up with a bacterial infection in my urinary tract and that would mean a round of antibiotics. Also, several days without sex." She gave him a pointed stare and he promptly withdrew his leg, allowing her to scoot off the bed and head for his bathroom.

She was careful to tread lightly both on her way out and coming back in, but she accidentally hooked her toe in his hastily-discarded shirt from the previous night and tripped, slamming her hip into his dresser and shaking it.

"Jeez, Lyds, be a little quieter, would you?"

Lydia gave him a death glare. "Thanks for your concern. My hip is fine, how nice of you to ask."

"I just don't want my dad to hear you," he protested guiltily.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Stiles. I've been here practically every night for the whole summer. We're clearly not studying. I'm pretty sure your dad has figured out by now that I'm sleeping with you."

Stiles winced. "Could you not talk so casually about my dad being aware of my sex life?" he grumbled. "It's creepy. Parents should not know their kids are having sex. Actually, they probably should, if they're good and involved parents, which my dad definitely is. But he still should absolutely not know about my sex life."

"Just be grateful he never knew about Derek," she pointed out, but when his face fell, she bit her lip. It had been more than three months since Stiles broke it off with Derek, and it was a wound that had yet to heal. It was made even more painful when Derek left to go visit Cora and hadn't returned. She knew he was wondering if he'd ever see the wolf again, and mentally flogging himself for hurting him the way he had. Being the sweet boyfriend he was he had never mentioned how much it hurt him, too, but Lydia knew him too well to pretend it hadn't.

"Yeah, that's a conversation I _really_ didn't want to have," he replied, his tone light in order to alleviate the tension in the room brought about by her careless mention of the name that they'd tacitly agreed not to speak. "He would have wanted to do the whole labeling thing. 'I don't understand, son. Are you gay? What about the Martin girl? Were you experimenting? You're not doing drugs, too, are you?' All sorts of roads I didn't want to go down."

Lydia laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, and he shook his head.

"I can't pretend it never happened," he said with a shrug, but she could see the struggle to act indifferent. "We were a thing. And then we weren't."

"Because of me," she said bluntly. They'd never addressed the fact that their relationship had caused him to end one he didn't actually want to end. There had obviously been no question in his mind that it was the right decision, at least at the time, but she despised the fact that she'd inadvertently been the one to instigate that kind of pain. She never wanted to hurt him.

"It was _my_ choice, Lydia," Stiles argued, sighing.

"I wish you didn't have to," she murmured. "I wish you hadn't had to choose between us."

He blinked at her, his expression turning wary. "What are you talking about? Of course I had to choose."

The casually spoken statement sparked an idea in her brain. More to the point, it reignited an idea she'd had awhile back but discarded as being too bizarre. It was worth a shot, though. She hated seeing him so unhappy, and if she could make things better for him she wouldn't hesitate to do whatever it took. "What if you didn't, though?" she asked slowly. "What would you think if I told you I didn't expect you to choose between us?"

"I'd think I'm the world's biggest superstud, because I apparently literally fucked your brains out last night," he said sarcastically. "You're crazy, Lyds."

She leveled an equally sarcastic smirk at him. "No, I'm a genius," she retorted. "You're not happy without him. I can see that. If anyone else had known about the two of you, they would be seeing it too."

Stiles shook his head. "I'm incredibly happy. We're together. It's all I ever wanted, and I have it. I have you. I couldn't _be_ happier."

"Us being together was all you ever wanted, _until_ you realized what it was like to have Derek in your life, too," she argued. "Yes, you're happy with me. But you're miserable without him. Or are you going to try to deny it?" she challenged him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He opened his mouth as if to object, then shook his head. "I'm not going to lie to you. Of course I miss him. Every day. But I couldn't be with him and you too, so I chose you. I can't believe you're arguing with me about this."

"I'm arguing with you because you're a dumbass. You _can_ be with him, and me too."

"You want me to cheat on you with Derek?" he asked incredulously, forgetting in his surprise to keep his voice down.

She widened her eyes and tilted her head, indicating the floor below them where they could hear the Sheriff moving around. Stiles fell silent for a few moments, and then the Sheriff hollered up the stairs. "Stiles, I'm heading in to work! I'll see you this evening!" Stiles opened his mouth to yell out a reply when his dad continued. "Good morning, Lydia! I'll pretend you weren't here if you'll make sure he washes his sheets!"

He flinched dramatically as Lydia giggled and opened the door. "Sure thing, Sheriff!" she called back down. They waited until the door slammed shut behind him before she moved back to the bed and they resumed their conversation. "To answer your question, no, I don't want you to cheat on me. Nor do I want you to cheat on him. I propose we share you."

Stiles' mouth fell open in shock. "You _what_? Do you mean like a time share? You each get your turn with me? Will we have to schedule all of this in advance? Like divorced parents. You get me during the summer and every other weekend during the school year, and he gets me during the week?"

She rolled her eyes, grinning. "No, sweetie. I mean share you. As in, the three of us together." She bit her lip again, wondering if her idea was pushing Stiles further than he was willing to go.

Desire flashed in his eyes and she smiled triumphantly. No matter what he said from this point on, she knew she would win the fight. He'd telegraphed how much the idea appealed to him and that was all she needed to know. "He'd kill me for bringing the idea up," he said finally, reluctantly. "Hell, he'd probably kill me for daring to speak to him again. And that's assuming I ever _will_ speak to him again."

"I think you underestimate how much he cared about you, Stiles," she sighed impatiently. "You don't leave town over disappointment or hurt feelings. You leave town because your heart is broken and you can't stand the idea of seeing the person who broke it."

He gaped at her. "You can't possibly be serious," he objected. "I'm pretty sure Derek Hale is incapable of loving anyone. He cared about me, maybe, but love? No way."

"You're an idiot," she muttered. "You had to be told I wanted you when it was right in front of your face for months. Maybe it was right in front of your face with Derek, too, and you just never saw it because you didn't believe it was possible. Maybe he was trying to tell you all along."

"I love you, Lydia, but you're wrong. Derek didn't love me. Besides, when did you become his champion? Why is this so important to you?"

"Because _you're_ important to me, you moron!" she fumed. "Although right now you're being so impossibly pig-headedly stubborn that I don't even know why I bother!"

"Because you love me?" he ventured, giving her his most charming smile. She shook her head and lifted her eyes to the ceiling as if asking for divine guidance, or possibly intervention.

"I do. And I'm certain Derek did too, even if you refuse to believe it. It can't hurt to just ask him. Will you be in any worse a position if you ask and he says no, than you're in right now?"

"Yes. Because he'll throw me out on my ass, which is very narrow and can't withstand that kind of abuse."

Her eyes sparkled and she grinned wickedly. "I have it on good authority that your ass can take quite a pounding," she murmured, her tone provocative. "And _that_ is something I would love to see."

Stiles swallowed with extreme difficulty, nodding his head in an erratic, bobbing motion. "Sure. I'll go ask him. Right now."

Lydia laughed in delight. "We have to find him and make him come home, first. _Then_ we can make him an offer he can't refuse."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ugh, I suck, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to update almost a month ago but I started writing a ton and forgot I was actually supposed to be posting, too. In penance, I will also be posting the next part of A Story in Texts, my Sterek-texting-each-other series. It'll be up within an hour of this chapter. I hope you enjoy both! :)**

"What are you doing this afternoon?"

Stiles glanced over at Lydia, who was putting the finishing touches on her pedicure. They'd been lounging in his room most of the morning, after he changed his sheets and threw the dirty ones in the laundry just as Lydia had promised his dad he'd do. He was reading through a book on the Cynocephalus, which he suspected of being their most recent threat. There had been reports of dog-headed men terrorizing some students, and while the others were thinking a new pack had arrived, he was convinced there was another explanation. Cynocephali were one of the more plausible ones.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating her question. "I want to go back to the loft," he said finally, and he could feel Lydia's gaze transfer from her feet to his face. "I still have a key. Derek didn't think to ask for it back, and afterward, I figured he'd rather I keep it than come back to him with it." The shirt was still his, too, in the back of his closet; he wore it sometimes, though he'd never told Lydia that. He suspected she knew it anyway.

"What good is that going to do?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. Probably none. But maybe he left a clue about where he is, or when he might be coming back. A travel itinerary, a map, a note for the damn housekeeper. Or maybe there won't be anything there. Maybe he left for good and just didn't tell anyone. This is Derek we're talking about. Mysterious and unpredictable is kind of his thing." He lifted his head up and thumped it back down on the floor in frustration; the idea of Derek being gone for good tore at him painfully.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He exhaled slowly. "I appreciate the offer, Lyds, but I think I need to do this on my own. I don't know what I'll find and I don't know how I'll react to what I do."

Lydia slid off the bed carefully, so as not to mess up her pedicure, and came to rest on her knees beside him, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His hand came up to tangle in the cloud of red that fell around his face like a cocoon, and he opened his mouth to her gentle exploration. After a few moments she pulled back, smiling softly. "I'll be here as soon as you need me," she promised. "Just text me when you're ready."

"God I love you," he breathed, kissing her again, harder this time. "You're pretty much the perfect girlfriend."

"I am," she agreed, grinning. "Now go. Figure out how to find your ex-boyfriend so we can make him a current one."

Stiles sat up, shaking his head. "This is seriously the most bizarre thing I've ever done, and living in a place like Beacon Hills, I've done a _lot_ of bizarre stuff."

Lydia shrugged. "The normal rules don't apply here. It's not so bizarre that we could have a relationship that falls into that category, right?"

He blinked. "It's not," he realized slowly. He hopped to his feet, reaching down to assist Lydia to hers, smiling down at her tenderly. "Thanks, Lyds. For everything. For being you, and for loving me the way you do."

She wrinkled her nose. "I love you too, sweetie, but you're about one maudlin chord away from being a ballad. Go find Derek."

Laughing, he dropped another kiss to her forehead before grabbing his keys and heading downstairs. Stiles found himself whistling cheerfully as he climbed into the Jeep, and when he caught himself doing it he stopped in shock. He hadn't whistled in what seemed like ages. Despite his protests to Lydia that he was as happy as he could possibly be, he'd always been aware that Derek's absence had created a hole in his life that no one, not even Lydia, could fill. The prospect of finally filling it back in again, no matter how remote a chance it was, had him happier than he could remember being in a really long damn time.

The distance to the loft seemed to be both infinitesimal and infinite. The anxiety built in him until he was practically vibrating in his seat, his leg bouncing erratically. When he caught sight of the building he inhaled sharply, a tight pressure swelling in his chest so that it felt nearly impossible to breathe. As he swung the Jeep into his old usual parking spot the tension began to ease; he already felt better just by being here.

Once he'd made his way to Derek's door he pulled his keys back out, preparing to use, for the first time ever, the one Derek had given him so long ago. His hand shook slightly as he tried to insert the key in the lock, but then it was sliding open, much more smoothly than he'd expected after months of disuse.

The first thing that struck him when he stepped inside was that it was painfully different. The gorgeous, rich colors that had been prevalent before, the blacks and grays and burgundies, were all gone, like a slate that had been wiped clean. Instead, there were various hues of muted blue all around him. The pillowy burgundy couch that he had such fond memories of was gone, replaced by a boxy, utilitarian navy thing. Instead of the high-backed black leather chair, there was a low, deep blue chair with wide arms and a square ottoman in front of it. The curio cabinet was gone, the space bare where it had once stood. In fact, the room was incredibly stark, with very little furniture and virtually no personal items or decorative trinkets. There was no sign of personality or of comfort, just functionality. The dramatic difference between what he'd known and what he saw now nearly broke Stiles' heart.

He drifted over to where Derek's bed still sat, the burgundy silk sheets and gray mink blanket a thing of the past. Navy cotton sheets were covered with a plain, slate-colored comforter. Stiles let his fingers drift over the fabric, idly recognizing that it was at least comfortable, if devoid of any kind of sense of indulgence or excess. Sadness overwhelmed him. Derek had erased every trace of the time they had shared.

Sighing, Stiles realized it was time to stop living in the past and start looking for the future. He'd seen a desk in the far corner of the room; that was probably the best place to start. He turned around to go look and nearly had heart failure when he saw Derek standing in front of him, a scowl dominating his angry face.

"Holy sh-! Oh my _God_ , Derek! What are you doing just standing there like a creeper?" Stiles demanded, trying to get his pounding heart back under control. "You couldn't have said something?"

"What are you doing in my home?" Derek growled, ignoring Stiles' questions. "You don't belong here."

"I know." Stiles lifted a shaky hand to his hair, running his fingers through it anxiously. "I, I mean _we_ , didn't know when you were coming back. I came here to see if I could find something that would give us a hint."

"If it was any of your business, I would have told you." The tone was flat, emotionless, and Stiles winced.

"I know," he repeated, sighing. "I know." Derek continued to stare him down, arms crossed tightly over his chest, which rose and fell shallowly with his constrained breaths. Stiles got the sense he was waiting for a better explanation. "I needed to see you. To talk to you."

"There's nothing to say," came the abrupt response.

"Yes there _is_ , Derek! God, would you _listen_ to me?" Stiles exclaimed in frustration.

The muscles in Derek's jaw tightened and Stiles was almost surprised his teeth didn't snap under the pressure. "Why should I?" he retorted, his voice steely. "You made your decision three months ago and I respected it. I left. What, are you going to tell me now that you and Lydia broke up and you want to pick up where we left off? Fuck you, Stiles."

The barely-concealed rage vibrating through Derek's voice knocked Stiles back a step or two. He stared at the wolf, noting that he was now curling his fingertips into his palms and a trickle of red was beginning to seep from his closed fists. It alarmed him and he wasn't sure that honesty was the best policy at this point, but he pressed forward anyway.

"We didn't break up," Stiles admitted, and when Derek's eyes shuttered he realized somewhere deep inside, the other man had held out hope that Stiles _had_ come back to tell him exactly that. When they reopened, he could see that the fiery light of anger had dimmed, and now there was just pain. "But that doesn't mean I don't still miss you."

Derek turned away and took several quick, shallow breaths. Stiles reached out a hand hesitantly, but before he made contact with Derek's skin he thought better of it and dropped his arm. He waited in trepidation, wondering if Derek would kick his ass or just tell him to get the hell out. Either one would be well-deserved. Then he turned back around and the misery in his eyes stole Stiles' breath.

"I loved you."

The words took a moment to penetrate Stiles' brain, and when he processed them he did a double-take, his jaw dropping open. "Uh, what?" he asked, certain he'd heard wrong.

Derek's head dropped and his back curved as he slumped inward on himself, and Stiles' heart ached. He wanted to wrap his arms around Derek and hold him close, to promise him he'd never hurt him like that again. Instead, he held his breath and waited Derek out, knowing that his trademark rambling would just ruin everything if he got started.

"Before you told me you slept with Lydia," Derek began, his voice halting. "I realized… I realized I loved you. I knew it wasn't just sex." He trailed off and Stiles bit his tongue to keep from interrupting. "I was going to ask if you wanted to, y'know, make things official." He winced. "That sounds stupid."

"No." Stiles' voice was soft. "It sounds perfect."

"But by the time I realized how much I wanted us to actually be together, I'd already lost." The bitterness weighed heavily in the air. "I always knew you and Lydia would end up together. I just hoped… I thought maybe you'd moved on."

Stiles couldn't stand it anymore. He took the two steps separating him and Derek and cupped the wolf's jaw in his hands, reaching up and kissing him deeply. Derek's eyes drifted closed and he sighed into Stiles' mouth, returning the kiss and sliding his hands into the younger man's hair. They clutched at each other for several long moments, neither of them willing to let go after being apart for so long. Finally Stiles stepped back, though not so far that he actually broke contact with Derek.

"I did, and I didn't," he began, knowing his explanation was bound to be clumsy. It wasn't something he'd been prepared to discuss, but there was no time like the present. "I've always loved Lydia, and I'll always love her. Even if we ever break up, she was my first love. That means something." Derek's face remained stone-still, but pain flickered through his eyes and Stiles rushed to finish. "But that doesn't mean I didn't move on. I never expected what happened with us. I didn't expect anything at all, but I definitely didn't expect how much it would matter once it did."

"Neither did I." Derek's stock stoicism had returned, and Stiles didn't know what it meant. Or how his suggestion would be received.

"Lydia knows how I feel about you," he continued, and Derek's eyes lifted, locking onto his curiously. "She knows how miserable I am without you, and she thinks we can fix it so that we're all happy."

"I don't see how that's possible," Derek replied honestly. He searched Stiles' eyes. "What does Lydia think you feel?"

"She doesn't think. She knows." Stiles inhaled a deep, steadying breath. "She knows I love you. She knows it didn't go away just because I ended things."

The joy that leapt into the wolf's eyes was short-lived, but it fueled Stiles' hope that maybe, somehow, this could work out for all of them. "And she's okay with that?"

"She loves me. She wants me to be happy. So she thinks that, uh, that if we were all, y'know, _together_ , that we'd all get what we want."

Derek's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Together? All three of us?"

"Yeah." Stiles scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "All three of us. You and me, me and her. You and her, too, I guess."

Derek's head was already shaking no and Stiles' heart sank. "You can't know what you're asking," he objected. "She can't, either. No one ever wins in that kind of scenario. Someone gets left out, jealousy takes over, everything is destroyed. I hate where we are now, but it's infinitely better than the irreparable damage something like that could cause."

" _Could,_ " Stiles repeated, pouncing on the word like it was his last salvation. "You don't know that it would. It could be exactly what we need."

"Stiles." The firm finality in his tone had Stiles stepping back, his gut twisting in sickened disappointment. "Even if I thought it might work, I wouldn't do it. I couldn't share you, not with anyone, but especially not with her."

The two fell silent when it became clear there was nothing else to be said. "I guess I should go," Stiles said finally.

"I guess you should," Derek replied quietly. Stiles took a step toward the loft's door, his feet feeling heavy. Derek's voice stopped him. "It was good to see you again. I'm glad you came by. Even though."

"Yeah. Even though." Stiles cast Derek a wistful look before escaping through the door. He slid it shut behind him, the click of it sounding like a gunshot, taking with it his last hope for a happily-ever-after.


	4. Chapter 3

"Wait, what?"

Stiles sighed, leaning the side of his head against the driver's-side window, his cell phone pressed to his other ear. "Yeah, he's back. He wasn't in the loft when I got there, but after I looked around for a second I turned around and there he was. Scared the hell out of me. I thought for a second he was going to break me in half."

Lydia was silent for a moment. "Did you ask him?"

 _Right to the point, as always._ "I did. He said no."

"Then he's an idiot," she said firmly.

"Because God forbid he just not like the idea of a threesome," Stiles shot back sarcastically. "That's incomprehensible."

He could almost hear Lydia rolling her eyes. "Sweetie. This is Derek. He's sex on a stick. I'm sure it's not the idea of a threesome that actually bothers him."

Stiles snorted. "I can't argue with your assessment, but he flat-out said he would never share me with you."

"Famous last words." Her voice was serene, and Stiles almost felt bad for Derek when he realized Lydia wasn't going to take his "no" for a final answer. Almost, but not quite. There was too much relief that the door wasn't completely shut on his chance for a reconciliation with the wolf, after all.

"So what are you going to do?"

She laughed. "I'm going to prove him wrong."

"I don't doubt you are fully capable of making Derek Hale change his mind. If anyone can out-stubborn him, it's you." He checked his watch. "I think I'm going to head over to Scott's and see how he's doing. Between you and Derek, I haven't spent much time with him lately. How long do you think it'll be before you're done with Derek?"

"He'll be begging me for the chance to fuck us both in the next hour," she said sweetly, and Stiles groaned. Lydia talking dirty still hadn't lost its impact on him and he could feel himself hardening. He was tempted to skip Scott's and just wait outside the loft until Lydia had had her conversation with Derek. "Go, have fun with Scott. I'll let you know once I have Derek eating out of my hand."

An image flashed in his mind of Derek eating out of something else instead, and he had to will back his growing erection. "Sounds like a plan. Work your magic, Lyds." He disconnected and tossed the phone in the passenger seat, unable to contain his excitement. This just might have a chance at working after all.

lllll

Derek sighed when he heard the determined knocking on the door. He could smell Lydia on the other side of it and knew exactly what was about to happen. Briefly, he considered not even letting her in.

Apparently she could read minds. "Damn it, Derek, I know you're in there! Don't even think about trying to ignore me, because I'm not going away."

Making a decision, he slid the door open and stared at her insolently. "What do you want, Lydia?"

She snorted. "Right, like you don't already know. You're not stupid, Derek."

The words were like a punch to the gut, reminding him of when he'd said something similar to Stiles. _She's not a stupid woman. It was only a matter of time before she figured out what she had._ The moment he'd been half-hoping would never come, or at least not until Stiles was over her and had no interest in running into her arms. Unfortunately for him she'd figured it out sooner rather than later, and he'd lost everything.

"Neither are you, which is why I don't understand why you came here," he replied evenly. "I told Stiles I'll never agree to a threesome."

"I know it's unorthodox," she began carefully, but he interrupted her.

"It's insane," he retorted bluntly. "It won't work. You really think I want to watch you and Stiles together, knowing I'm just the extra entertainment in your bed? I don't."

Lydia's brows drew together in a puzzled frown. "Whatever gave you that idea? Did Stiles say that?"

He gave her a suspicious stare. "He said you thought if we were all 'together' then we'd all be happy. I'd never be satisfied with an arrangement like that."

"That's never what I intended," she sighed, shaking her head. "Stiles loves you, Derek. He's so unhappy without you, and it kills me to watch him struggle to pretend he's not. I knew before I even suggested it to him that this wouldn't just be about sex. When I said I wanted the three of us to be together, I actually meant _together_."

Derek had to fight not to let his jaw drop. She was even crazier than he'd thought. "How exactly did you expect that to work? You and Stiles go to the movies one night, I take him out for dinner the next? You think people wouldn't notice our bizarre little triangle?"

She bit her lip uncertainly. "I never thought you'd actually care what other people thought."

He let out a harsh bark of laughter. "I don't give a shit what anyone thinks about _me_ , but I would never put _him_ through that."

"Even if he didn't care, either?" she asked softly. "Even if it allowed him to be happy, truly happy?"

The thought made him hesitate. He knew how much he missed Stiles. Hell, he'd left home for almost three months because he'd _needed_ to put distance between himself and the teen he'd inexplicably fallen head over heels in love with. It hadn't helped. He'd been just as miserable the day he drove home as he had been the day he left, ostensibly to visit Cora but really just to run away from the utter devastation Stiles had left in his wake.

Lydia saw the pause and jumped on it. "Derek, think about it. You and I both love him and he loves both of us. Having to choose between us broke his heart, and neither one of us wants that for him. If you give this a chance he gets everything _he_ wants, and that's all that both of _us_ want. Plus then we both get him, too. It's a win-win for everyone."

His eyebrows drew together as his face darkened. "I'd suggest not trying to manipulate me," he warned her. "I've spent half a lifetime dealing with the aftereffects of being manipulated by women who just wanted to use me and hurt me, and I won't allow you to do the same."

The surprise on her face was genuine. "Derek, I'm not trying to manipulate you." She softened, which was not an expression he had seen on her before. "I'm sorry if you think I'm acting like… her." The word _Kate_ hung in the air between them, unsaid, and Derek was unexpectedly touched by the thoughtfulness she displayed in not actually naming the woman who had destroyed his life. "I'm only trying to keep you from rejecting my idea out-of-hand. We both want his happiness. This could be the perfect way to achieve it, for him as well as for both of us."

Derek studied her. She meant it, which surprised him. For awhile he'd thought she was proposing it because she was just trying to make Stiles feel better, not because it was what she actually wanted. It was evident to him now that she really believed this could work, and she wanted it to.

"What about us?" he asked finally.

"Us?" She wrinkled her nose in confusion and he almost smiled. Now that he wasn't so focused on hating her for being the one Stiles loved enough to choose, he was starting to see why she appealed to him. She was actually kind of adorable. Her loyalty and fierce determination to do what she thought was best for Stiles definitely won her points in his book, at any rate.

"Yeah, us," he repeated. "Do you expect that you and I will have a relationship with each other, outside of the one we share with Stiles?"

"There are no expectations on my part." Lydia eyed him speculatively. "Clearly it isn't going to be a hardship for me to have sex with you." He fought to hide a grin at her frankness. "If I didn't think I could go through with it, I never would have suggested it to Stiles in the first place."

"The feeling is mutual," he replied easily. "But we're not going to be able to sustain this for long just to make Stiles happy."

"You mean if we don't have feelings for each other beyond sexual desire," she realized. "You don't think they'd come in time?"

Derek shrugged, uncomfortable. This was a conversation he absolutely didn't want to be having. "There's no way to know. This is a situation that will breed a lot of familiarity with each other, which could grow into something more. Or it won't, and Stiles will be the one to suffer. What if one of us decides we can't do it anymore, we can't keep pretending for his sake? We're back to forcing him to make a choice that will hurt him again. He's already made that choice once. Shouldn't we just leave it at that?"

It was the most he'd ever said at one time to anyone who wasn't Stiles in longer than he could remember. He hoped Lydia would see the wisdom in his words. He absolutely meant them, but he had said them almost as much in selfishness as he had in concern for Stiles. If they tried this and he couldn't get past his jealousy of Lydia enough to accept her, to care for her, then he'd be risking having his heart broken once again. He didn't know that he could cope with it a second time around.

Lydia set her jaw stubbornly and Derek had the sinking feeling he'd already lost the argument. "He's made another one. Stiles chose to pursue my idea because this is what _he_ wants, and if you love him the way I think you do, you'll at least try. He's done so much for all of us and he never hesitates when one of his friends needs him. Now _he_ needs _us_. Are you really going to turn your back on him now?"

Glaring at her, he crossed his arms over his chest menacingly. She didn't even blink, she simply returned his stare. Eventually he sighed and let his arms drop. "Of course not," he grumbled. "But I want it understood right now how opposed I am to this. Someone is going to end up with a broken heart." _Probably me._

"Objection noted," she said airily. "And for the record, I think you're wrong."

Derek made a face. "Oh, yeah, this is going to work out just perfectly." Lydia grinned a little and he scowled. "What's the grin for?"

"You sound like Stiles," she replied affectionately. "He's been a good influence on you."

He softened. "He really has." They fell silent and Derek shifted uncomfortably. "Is that it?"

"Are you that anxious to get rid of me?" she sassed. "Come on, Derek. Try to at least pretend you like me a little, otherwise it's going to be so much harder to convince yourself this will work."

"I don't _want_ to convince myself it will work," he muttered.

"Of course you do," Lydia shot back, rolling her eyes. "Because it's for Stiles, and you love him just as much as I do."

He'd long ago become comfortable with the idea that he'd fallen in love with the teen, despite his discomfort with what it meant for him in the wake of their breakup. Hearing it from Lydia, however, was more disconcerting than he cared for. Something in his expression must have given those thoughts away, because she softened and smiled sweetly at him.

"I know how scary it is, falling in love with him," she admitted quietly. "Because he's the one who isn't going to screw things up. I mean, yeah, he'll screw things up _some_ times, but they'll be little things. He's the one who will fight with his dying breath to make sure that if anyone gets hurt, it's him and not the people he loves. He's the one who won't walk away when things get rough, and falling in love with him means making a long-term commitment to not walking away, either."

Derek winced. "He walked away from _me_ ," he said, his voice a pained exhale.

"He walked away from a sexual relationship," Lydia reminded him firmly. "If you'd made it known that you were choosing him, that you wanted him for _real,_ even I couldn't have induced him to leave you."

Her words landed in him like one of Argent's arrows and he inhaled sharply, immediately realizing she was right. His breakup with Stiles had been at least partially his own fault, because he hadn't claimed what he wanted for his own. _He_ had given Stiles the freedom to leave, and now he had the ability to make sure it never happened again. All he had to do was share the man he loved with another woman.

Giving Lydia a look full of new awareness, he suddenly smiled, chuckling a little when she appeared taken aback. "I'll think about it," he finally acquiesced, and he felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the way her face lit up. "I didn't say yes."

"But you didn't say no," she reminded him, shrugging as if his lack of confirmation was nothing to be concerned about. "I'm already wearing you down, Hale. You'll say yes before you know it."

The twinkle of determination in her eyes told him she was very likely right.


	5. Chapter 4

Lydia studied Derek, the look in her eyes calculating as she watched his every movement. He sat across from where she and Stiles were seated on Scott's couch, folded in on himself in one of the large overstuffed chairs in the living room. He hadn't said much since the meeting started and mostly kept his eyes downcast once everyone had enthusiastically welcomed him back to the pack. He only glanced up when Stiles was talking, and she smirked inwardly. The fact that they'd been able to conceal their relationship from anyone at all amazed her. Now that she knew about it and could watch them while they were in each other's presence, it was ridiculously obvious that there was something between them.

"I still don't think it's a new pack," Stiles objected stubbornly, and Lydia bit back a grin when Derek lifted his gaze to Stiles' in interest. "I mean, no offense, but you guys don't actually look like dog-headed men even during a full moon. You just look like you hit puberty with a vengeance and no one ever showed you how to use a razor."

Derek cracked a smile. "So what do _you_ think they are?" he asked, his tone challenging.

Stiles' eyes darkened and Lydia shivered. The thought of being in a room with these two when they finally came together turned her on more than just a little. When she'd proposed her idea she'd known it would mean being involved with Derek sexually, but she'd thought of it in an abstract way. He was attractive, it wouldn't be a hardship to have sex with him. Now, though, she could feel herself being drawn to the pair of them almost as much as she was to Stiles himself.

Stiles shifted next to her, sitting forward as he animatedly began to discuss his research on the Cynocephalus. "It really makes the most sense," he concluded. "All the reports specifically mention men with the heads of dogs, not men who look especially furry. They've been heard barking at each other, never talking. And there've been a lot of small animals that have gone missing. Werewolves don't eat raw animals unless there isn't anything else available."

A proud smile spread across Derek's face that Lydia was certain meant nothing to anyone else, but the pleased flush that colored Stiles' cheeks told her he'd noticed. He settled back into the couch and slid his arm around her waist, tucking his fingertips under the edge of her ass instead of resting them on her hip. Derek's eyes dropped to where Stiles' fingers made small impressions in her flesh, and when he raised his eyes it was her eyes he met, not Stiles'.

The gleam in them struck her suddenly, and she found it difficult to catch her breath. He'd been so resistant to the idea that his obvious change of heart confused her, but it was also exciting. Images flashed through her head of Derek bracing himself over Stiles, his muscular arms bulging from holding his weight steady as he thrust into her boyfriend. In her mind, Derek turned his head slightly to look at her as she watched them ravenously, and smiled. "Get over here," he growled, and she felt a rush of arousal between her thighs.

A soft chuckle interrupted her daydream and she snapped back to reality, staring into Derek's amused gaze. The realization hit her that her arousal wasn't limited to her fantasy and Derek was well aware of her thoughts. Following that was mortification at the thought that Scott and Isaac could smell her as easily as Derek could. She darted a glance at the two wolves, wincing in anticipation of their knowing smirks.

Isaac was smirking, but he was looking at Stiles instead of at her. Scott was rolling his eyes in annoyance. Lydia sighed under her breath, relieved that of course they thought she was thinking about having sex with Stiles. Why in the world would they assume she was fantasizing about watching Derek and Stiles and then getting to join in?

Stiles was, as always, adorably clueless. He was completely unaware of her thoughts and the reactions of the three wolves, and started chattering in response to something Allison had said. Lydia realized she hadn't been following the conversation at all and mentally crossed her fingers no one asked her a question.

"So what do you think, Lydia?" Isaac asked, that damned smirk permanently engraved on his lips. Of course he'd be the one to call her out. _Smarmy little asshole._

"I don't know, I wasn't listening," she said breezily. There was no reason to try to deny it, everyone but Stiles and Allison was aware her mind was in the bedroom instead of Scott's living room. "Whatever you guys decide is fine with me."

Allison eyed her speculatively. "Is everything okay?" she asked Lydia, her voice quiet. "You don't seem like you're all here."

Isaac snorted and Lydia glared at him. "I'm fine," she said shortly. "I just have a lot on my mind and I'm not particularly interested in more dog-boys who howl at the moon and kill things. Been there, done that." She stood abruptly, smoothing her skirt down her thighs. "I'm heading home. I'll leave the rest of the Beacon Hills brain trust to figure out a plan of attack."

Stiles looked up at her in concern. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, sweetie, I'm fine. Just call me when you're done here." She gave him a reassuring smile before turning away and glancing at Derek. When she caught his eye she nodded almost imperceptibly, including him in the request.

She felt an odd sense of euphoria, and of power, as she left the McCall house. It had been several days since Derek had agreed to her request and he'd asked for some time to mentally prepare, but it seemed as if he was ready now. She wondered what would happen after the pack meeting was over. Would Stiles and Derek find their way to her house? _Don't wait for them to come to you._

Grinning wickedly, Lydia sent Stiles a quick text and then hopped in her little blue car, humming cheerfully as she headed for the loft.


	6. Chapter 5

Stiles felt the vibration of his phone and pulled it out, swallowing hard when he saw Lydia's short message. _Heading to the loft. Take Derek home when you guys are done._

He glanced up at the wolf in question, wondering if they were really ready for this. He'd been so anxious for Derek to say yes, but now that they were on the verge of taking that step, he felt like maybe they'd rushed into it.

Then Derek looked up and their eyes locked, and Stiles prayed for Scott to finally get tired of talking and call an end to the meeting. Lydia was waiting for them. He wanted to be with the two people he loved. He was ready.

"So we meet at the loft tomorrow at midnight," Scott said, and Stiles shook himself from his trance. "We're going to get a good look at these guys and make a positive ID. Derek, I want you to take point. You have a more extensive knowledge of supernatural creatures than anyone else here, except for Stiles, so I want to make sure you lay eyes on them."

"Sure thing," Derek said easily. "Is that it?"

Stiles could have kissed him. In fact, he was dying to. "Yeah, I need to go make sure Lydia's okay," he lied, only feeling a touch guilty for keeping such a huge secret from his best friend. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah, sure," Scott conceded. "Let me know if you guys need anything, okay?"

Stiles felt a rush of affection for the alpha and nodded. "Thanks, buddy. I'm sure she's fine, I just want to check in." He inclined his head at Allison and Isaac, and practically ran for the door. He didn't check to make sure Derek was following him, because Derek didn't run unless there was danger.

"You know your girlfriend was thinking about us," Derek remarked as Stiles flipped through his keys to find the one for the Jeep. He glanced over at the casual revelation.

"How do you know?" he asked, surprised.

Derek smiled, his teeth gleaming white, and Stiles forgot for a moment what they were talking about. That smile killed him every bit as much now as it had six months ago. "She was so turned on I was surprised she didn't demand we follow her when she left."

Stiles groaned. "She's at the loft," he admitted, and he watched curiously as Derek's eyes flashed, unable to read the expression. "I think she's done waiting for us to be ready."

"'Us'?" Derek parroted in confusion. He studied Stiles for a moment and Stiles felt like he was under a microscope. "I thought _I_ was the one who needed some time to get used to the idea."

"You know me and jumping in feet-first," Stiles said sheepishly. "I wanted this so much that I didn't stop to think about how hard it might be on everyone. Once I did, I started to worry we were just setting ourselves up for failure."

The look on Derek's face twisted Stiles' stomach. "Did you change your mind?" he asked hollowly.

Stiles shook his head adamantly. "No! God, no!" He inhaled deeply. "I want it more now than I did then. I just freaked out for a minute. I'm good." A grin curved his lips. "Besides, I think Lydia wants this just as much as I do now. She'd kill me if I screwed it up."

A matching grin bloomed on Derek's face and Stiles marveled once again that there'd been a time he'd only known this man to be broody and grumpy. It seemed like he _wanted_ to smile, but he'd only ever had reasons to be angry instead of happy. It humbled Stiles to know that he was the one who brought it out.

"Let's not keep her waiting, then," Derek murmured, his voice a low rumble that felt like it rolled right underneath Stiles' skin.

He practically leaped into the Jeep's front seat, watching as Derek eased into his Camaro. The anxious anticipation of what was to come had him practically bouncing in the seat, his left foot tapping frantically against the floorboard while he struggled to keep his right steady on the clutch. The Camaro's engine revved to life and Stiles jumped, almost popping the clutch. He took a steadying breath, willed his feet to stop dancing, and eased down on the accelerator while gradually releasing the clutch, and the Jeep jumped forward.

The drive to the loft disappeared in a blur of color and pornographic thoughts, and Stiles was pulling into "his" parking spot in what seemed like mere moments. The second his door was shut behind him he felt himself being pushed back into it, but before he could even register what had happened, Derek's hips were pressing into his and those full, sensuous lips were crushed against his mouth. Long fingers were threading through his hair and he parted his lips, accepting and returning the kiss with uncontrolled passion. It had been too long, and he needed this. Lydia could wait another minute. Or five.

"God, I missed you," he gasped out when they finally broke apart.

Derek's expression was tender, his lips curving up slightly at the corner. "I missed you, too," he said simply, and it struck Stiles that where the wolf had once been reluctant to express his feelings, now he seemed determined not to let an opportunity to do so pass him by. So Stiles slid his hand into Derek's and tugged him toward the loft, twining their fingers together as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look back to see his reaction, but when Derek's fingers tightened around his, he smiled.

Lydia was reclined on the couch when they tugged the door shut behind them. "You should really hire a decorator. This couch is completely uncomfortable and such a blah color, and the rest of the loft is just as bad."

Stiles snorted out a laugh that he choked off halfway through when he realized that might be a sore subject with Derek. When he turned to take in his expression, however, he was relieved to see a rueful half-smile on the other man's face. "I had a decorator," he admitted. "Maybe I should give her a call later."

"Or, you could let me do it," she said breezily, swinging her feet off the couch and walking around, examining the utilitarian furnishings and clucking her tongue at the bare walls. "I have an eye for color and how to put things together, you know."

Stiles came up behind her, resting a hand on her hip and caressing the shell of her ear with his lips. "We can worry about the decorating later," he murmured, knowing Derek would still hear him. "Right now there are only three things I'm interested in putting together."

He heard a muffled bark of laughter behind him and turned, making a face at Derek. "You try to be smooth instigating something like this," he retorted, and Derek's face turned wickedly intense. Stiles swallowed hard as the man transformed into a lethal predator in front of his eyes, capturing his gaze so that he was unable to look away as Derek came at them like a jungle cat on the prowl. Lydia turned in his grip and her eyes widened, as spellbound as Stiles was.

"I don't have to be smooth," he whispered, his voice dark and velvety. One hand gripped Stiles' neck and pulled him in, their lips fusing as their tongues crashed and slid over each other; the other hand snaked around Lydia's waist and pulled her into a three-way embrace. After a moment he broke apart from Stiles, turning his attention to the redhead. There was a brief moment of hesitance in her eyes that neither man missed, but Derek dispelled it by capturing her lips under his, cupping her jaw with his hand and tilting her face up so she could open up to him.

Stiles had wondered, in the back of his mind where it couldn't escape out of his mouth, if it would bother him to see Derek and Lydia together. He'd been concerned that he'd be jealous or resentful that their focus was on each other instead of him. Looking at them now, he realized there was no reason to have been worried. Aside from his interactions with each as an individual, this was one of the most captivating things he'd ever experienced.

Lydia pulled back from the kiss first, breathing erratically even though it had been a gentle kiss instead of the typically powerful ones between Derek and Stiles. Her cheeks were pink as she glanced from one man to the other. "I want to see you two together," she blurted out, and Derek raised an eyebrow at her.

"Is that what you were thinking about at Scott's?" he asked.

The blush deepened, but she tilted her chin up defiantly. "Yes. Can I help it if the idea of my boyfriend being fucked by a gorgeous man turns me on?"

Derek broke into a grin as Stiles groaned. "You're killing me, Lyds," he mock-complained. "I'm never going to last long enough to satisfy you."

She grinned slyly. "I have a feeling I'll get plenty of satisfaction just by watching the two of you."

"Far be it for me to disappoint a lady," Derek said lightly, and he reached down to grip the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. Lydia sighed happily and he smirked at her. "This isn't the first time you've ever seen me shirtless."

"No, but it's the first time you've started to get naked in front of me, and it's the first time I've known I was going to be having sex with you shortly," she returned sweetly. "I'm appreciating it now in a way I couldn't before." She placed her hands on his chest, palms to abs, and pressed another light kiss between his pecs.

Stiles' heart was racing, watching the actual intimacy between the two of them. He could see on Derek's face that he was surprised and a little uncertain, but he allowed Lydia the freedom to explore as she wished, and that made Stiles love him all the more. He knew Derek had had the most reservations about the whole idea, but he had put aside his own discomfort in order to make Stiles happy. Stiles felt incredibly fortunate to be loved by two such amazing people.

"Why aren't you getting naked?" Lydia asked, lifting her lips from Derek's skin long enough to arch a perfectly groomed eyebrow at Stiles. "I believe I said I wanted to watch the two of you. So strip."

"Yes ma'am," Stiles said agreeably, rushing to pull his shirt off and undo his jeans. He hopped around on one foot as he tried to yank the leg down and over his foot. Derek's hand shot out to catch him just as he lost his balance and fell forward, hissing as Lydia simultaneously traced his nipple with the tip of her tongue.

"You both are going to be the death of me," he groaned, tipping his head back and allowing a ragged sigh of pleasure to escape.

Stiles, having regained his balance, lifted the long, thick skein of silky red hair from Lydia's back and laid it over her shoulder, leaning down and brushing his lips over the sensitive skin at her nape. She hummed happily as his mouth moved down the column of her neck and over her shoulder, pressing soft, unhurried butterfly kisses to them.

Without warning, she slipped from between the two men and stepped back, her eyes expectant as she glanced from Stiles to Derek. Stiles' heart stuttered when he was left facing Derek alone, and he gravitated toward the older man as if there were invisible strings tightening between the two of them. He slid his hands over Derek's shoulders, fingers digging in tightly. Derek gripped the back of Stiles' neck with one hand and tunneled the fingers of his other hand through his thick brown hair. Their mouths met hungrily, each of them feeling the distance of the previous three months melting away until there was nothing but this moment.

"God, I love you," Stiles mumbled against the lips that were pressing quick kisses to his mouth, the teeth that were nipping at his lips. The freedom he felt with Derek now amazed him, though he was grateful for the ability to be as honest with him as he could be with Lydia. Before, he would have been terrified of saying those three little words; now, he wanted to shout them to the world.

Derek's mouth left his and he backed away, and for a brief moment Stiles wondered if he'd misread their new closeness. Then Derek's eyes softened and took on a bright sheen of happiness, and he smiled. He didn't repeat the words, but Stiles didn't need him to.

"Bed. Now," he said instead, his voice rough, and Stiles flashed back to the day they'd said goodbye to each other. Their urgency had been the same then, and by the look on Derek's face, he remembered as clearly as Stiles did. Suddenly, an almost… _shy_ expression crossed his face. "Wait."

Stiles looked over at Lydia, exchanging a confused glance with her before returning his attention to Derek, who was digging through a low, boxy chest of drawers. A surge of disbelief bloomed in his chest when he saw Derek stand up, turning around and shaking out the gray mink blanket. "You _kept_ it?" he blurted out, stunned.

"It was the one thing I couldn't get rid of," the wolf responded, his voice barely a murmur.

Stiles flung himself into Derek's arms again, the blanket falling to the floor as he wound his arms around Derek's neck and tightened, bringing their bodies flush together as Derek's arms wrapped around his torso and their lips found each other's once more. The feel of Derek's jeans brushing against the sensitive skin of his erection reminded him that they'd been in the process of moving things to the "bedroom", and he tilted his hips up as a gentle reminder. Derek began walking them to the bed, never losing contact with Stiles' mouth, and when the back of Stiles' knees hit the bed and they tumbled backward onto it, Stiles was surprised to feel the mink soft against his skin.

It was enough to break the spell and he looked around, noticing a pleased-looking Lydia leaning against the wall and watching them. Stiles realized she'd picked the blanket up while he and Derek were distracted and laid it over the bed for them, and her thoughtfulness warmed his heart. "Get over here," he managed, and she shook her head.

"Later," she mouthed, and then Stiles' attention was diverted by Derek shifting, kicking his jeans and boxers off impatiently, and then rolling back on top of him. Stiles' legs opened and Derek was there, pressing forward, their erections rubbing against each other before Derek moved down his body, placing a line of kisses down his chest. Head falling back, Stiles' eyes squeezed tightly shut when Derek's mouth closed over his cock and his fingers cupped his testicles, massaging gently.

Suddenly Derek chuckled, his head turning slightly to look at Lydia, who was still on the wall. Her cheeks were flushed and Stiles didn't need to be told that his girlfriend was highly aroused by what she was seeing. He arched up and Derek refocused his attention on worshipping Stiles with his mouth, cheeks hollowing out as he simultaneously sucked and pulled upward along the shaft. Stiles jerked involuntarily and Lydia breathed out a soft groan. Knowing that she was watching and enjoying it made him ache, and despite the pleasure and his desire to be with Derek again, he wanted her to be sharing this with them.

As if she could read his mind, she was suddenly at his side. He felt the bed dip as she sank onto it and the brush of her hair over his chest as she leaned over him, thumb and forefinger capturing his jaw and holding tightly as her mouth slid over his, her tongue meeting his as their lips parted for the other. "I'm sorry, I couldn't stay away anymore," she breathed once they broke for air, and he responded by twining his fingers through her hair and tugging lightly to pull her down against him. She'd disrobed while his attention had been diverted, and the lushness of her breasts pressed against his chest caused his cock to stiffen even further.

Derek's mouth lifted and Stiles frowned, though the expression smoothed away when he eased down onto the bed beside Stiles and Lydia. Her head popped up and she caught Derek's eye, and the two shared a private look of understanding before each descended to take one of Stiles' nipples between their teeth. Stiles groaned harshly and he gripped the backs of both of their heads, massaging them rhythmically as they sucked, nibbled, and flicked their tongues at the pebbled peaks.

"Guys," he rasped. "I can't take much more of this."

They pulled back and Stiles was struck by how perfect they looked to him, the faces of his two loves side-by-side and both gazing at him with adoration shining in their eyes. His chest tightened and he was afraid, for one brief second, that the beauty of the moment might actually bring him to tears.

Clearing his throat to dispel the overwhelming emotion, Stiles focused his attention on Derek. "Where do you keep your lube now?" he asked, keeping his voice light. "Since the curio cabinet is, I'm guessing, scrap wood and glass splinters at this point."

Lydia cast Derek a confused glance as he frowned at the reminder of the reason for the cabinet's untimely end. Instead of answering, he reached over Stiles' chest to pull open the drawer of his bedside table and plucked out a bottle. The hungriness in his gaze as he applied the lube to his fingers fanned Stiles' desire.

Stiles cast a glance up at Lydia, suddenly nervous that she'd think differently of him once this actually happened. There was a difference between being turned on by something in theory and actually witnessing it, and he wondered if she might look at him now as subservient, or lesser. It had never occurred to him before that maybe being dominated by Derek would make him look like less of a man in her eyes.

Then came the blissful moment that Derek was sliding inside him and he couldn't bring himself to worry about Lydia's reaction. The pleasure that had haunted his dreams for the past three months consumed him once again, and as he gazed up at Derek's gorgeous face, he could see the same emotions racing through his eyes. Derek was braced over him, the muscles in his arms bunching as he held himself up and thrust forward, moving leisurely at first and then throwing in an unexpected snap of his hips. Stiles arched up, eyes drifting shut, his throat working convulsively as he bit out soft groans and sighs.

When Lydia's hand snaked between their bodies to grip his cock and stroke firmly, Stiles' eyes flew open and he almost pulled away from her hand. He flushed when he realized he'd forgotten she was even there. Amber eyes met sparkling, impish green ones and the hand on his erection tightened, and Stiles realized he'd been foolish to have a moment of doubt. Lydia loved him and she'd known about this side of him for as long as they'd been together. A brilliant smile bloomed on his face and he reached up for her, curling his fingers around the back of her neck and pulling her down to meet his seeking mouth.

A guttural growl burst from Derek's lips as he continued to piston forward, repeatedly filling Stiles before briefly leaving him empty again. Lydia broke their kiss and gave Derek an almost innocent, wide-eyed gaze before sitting up on her knees to meet his lips with her own. Stiles groaned roughly, feeling his cock twitch and the sensations begin to crescendo. "God, I'm close," he gasped, spreading his legs a little wider so Derek could sink back onto his knees and achieve a better angle of penetration. Lydia dropped back down onto all fours, taking his cock into her mouth and sucking in time with Derek's thrusts. Stiles almost lost it right then and there, but he gritted his teeth and held on, fisting his fingers in the mink in an effort to maintain control.

"Let go," Derek urged, stroking his hand over the top of Lydia's head as it bobbed up and down on Stiles' hard length. The sight of the affectionate, thoroughly sexy gesture was exactly what it took to push Stiles over the edge, and he let out a long, low groan as he did just that.

Once his hips had ceased jerking, Lydia sat up and smiled softly at him, running her fingers tenderly through his hair. She glanced at Derek over her shoulder, giving him a sultry grin. "I think it's your turn now," she murmured.

Derek leaned forward and bit into Stiles' lower lip as he rocked forward faster, harder, and Stiles knew the wolf was close to achieving his own release. He grabbed Derek by the shoulders and pulled him in closer, their tongues tangling and fighting for dominance as Derek's hips pumped forward desperately. Suddenly a harsh growl erupted from Derek's lips and then he was spilling himself deep into Stiles, his forward motions slowing gradually until his cock was too soft to continue.

Both of their chests were heaving as they each tried to catch their breath, and Derek rolled over, collapsing onto his back beside Stiles. He turned his head, smirking at Lydia. "I take it you enjoyed the show," he said dryly.

"Absolutely," she beamed. She dropped a light kiss to Stiles' chest and then leaned over him to do the same to Derek. "That fulfilled fantasies I've had for the last three months."

Stiles blinked up at her. "Wait, what? Why didn't you ever tell me?" he protested. "I had no idea you'd wanted this for so long."

She shrugged, sprawling across his chest and moaning in bliss when his hand found its way between her shoulder blades and massaged gently. "I didn't want to bring it up," she confessed. "I didn't think you'd appreciate the reminder, and I didn't think there was any chance it would happen. I also didn't realize at the time how deeply you truly loved Derek. I'd sort of thought you were just having sex and that was it. It took me awhile to be brave enough to risk mentioning the idea."

"Somehow I can't see you _ever_ being too scared to say anything," Derek snorted.

She cast him a disparaging look. "By the time I realized it could actually work, I also knew bringing you up was absolutely not okay. You were off-limits, so I moved on and tried to forget about it."

Warmth spread through Stiles as he gazed up into her face fondly. "You're incredible," he sighed. He looked over at Derek. "You're included in that, by the way."

Derek rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one hand as he watched the two of them. "This isn't as hard as I thought it would be," he admitted. "A little weird, still, but not hard."

"Not anymore, anyway," Stiles cracked, and Derek and Lydia groaned simultaneously.

"There is nothing sacred with you, is there?" Lydia teased, laying her head down on his chest and trailing her fingertips over his bicep.

"Nope," he returned blithely. He felt his eyes staring to drift closed. He hadn't felt this at peace, this comforted, in months. It was nothing against Lydia, but as much as he loved her, he couldn't deny how heart-broken he'd been to walk away from Derek. Having the two of them together like this was more than he could ever have hoped for, and the lack of tension in his body had him feeling like he was floating on clouds.

It was Derek's voice that roused him from the edge of sleep. "We completely ignored you," he said to Lydia guiltily, and Stiles winced when he realized he'd left his girlfriend high and not-so-dry.

"I wanted to see you two," she reminded him firmly. "We have the whole rest of the evening together. There'll be plenty of time for round two, after the two of you recover."

"Sure," he said agreeably, tugging her off of Stiles and underneath him as he rolled to his knees above her. "But I don't need recovery time to do this." To Stiles' and Lydia's mutual surprise, he eased down the bed and spread her legs, dipping his tongue between her delicate folds. She arched off the bed as his tongue flickered over her clit, crying out when he plunged two fingers into her wet heat.

Stiles didn't want to be left out, so he rolled over and let his mouth join Derek's at the apex of her thighs. Their tongues skated over the tiny bundle of nerves, tracing intricate designs and caressing each other more frequently than not. Derek continued to thrust his fingers into Lydia's hot core, eliciting tiny shrieks of pleasure that escalated in volume the faster he went. Stiles and Derek got distracted for a moment as their lips joined, each tasting Lydia's juices on the other's tongue.

Her whimpers drew their attention again and Derek traced the tip of his tongue through the folds of tender pink skin, gathering her wetness on his lips. Stiles slid two fingers over her clit, rubbing and pinching lightly, until she let out a wail that he suspected might actually have the capability of raising the dead. Her lower body trembled with her release and Derek made sure not to miss a drop, licking lips that were curved in a self-satisfied smirk.

"I'd push you away for that egotistical grin, but I don't think I have bones anymore," she sassed, although it lacked power because her voice was faint and shuddery. "So I'm just going to lay here and enjoy this feeling."

Stiles collapsed onto his back again, a huge smile splitting his face. This was the definition of happiness, as far as he was concerned. He was pretty sure life couldn't get any better.


	7. Chapter 6

"Are you sure Lydia is okay with this?"

"Yeah, man, it's fine." At Derek's doubtful look, Stiles sighed. "Do you really think we're going to spend the rest of our lives only being together when it's all three of us?"

The casual use of the phrase "the rest of our lives" threw Derek for a loop for a moment, and he had to pause to rein in the flash of happiness that speared through him. "I guess not," he admitted, feeling foolish. Gesturing for Stiles to head into the living room, he stepped into the kitchen area for a moment in order to take a deep breath and calm down somewhat. When he felt like he was under control, he grabbed a bottle of wine and a couple glasses and followed Stiles into the living room, sinking down onto the couch beside him.

Stiles snorted. "Really, Derek? Wine? You trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"

He made a face at Stiles and set the glasses down with a thunk. "I was trying to be a good host, but if you're going to give me shit, you can just get your own drink," he groused, though it lacked heat.

"Since when are you my host?" Stiles asked, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. "I practically lived here back when we were, y'know, together-but-not-together. This might be a new version of us, but it's still us."

The words brought a warmth to Derek's heart that embarrassed him. The whole situation was weird and complicated and still confused him, but for Stiles it was so simple. They were together. All of them. He was still trying to figure out how to adjust and Stiles and Lydia were blithely rolling along, thinking of happily-ever-after as if it were a foregone conclusion. It both awed and scared him. Happily-ever-after wasn't exactly in his wheelhouse. He wanted to believe it could happen, but experience had not given him any reason to hope for it.

"Can we agree that I don't roll with the emotional punches the way you and Lydia seem to?" he asked wryly. "I'm still figuring all of this out."

Stiles smirked at him. "You seemed to be rolling right along with things pretty well the other day," he teased good-naturedly.

Derek shrugged. "That was sex. Sex is easy." The look on Stiles' face told him he that wasn't a good enough response. "You and I… Nothing changed in that three months. It was as simple as it ever was. Adding Lydia wasn't hard because she made herself impossible to resist."

"Now you know why I couldn't resist her," Stiles pointed out, and Derek went silent. Stiles cursed. "I'm sorry, Der. I didn't mean to remind you."

Derek shook his head. "It's part of our history," he said ruefully. "It's not a part I enjoy, but it happened."

"If it makes you feel any better, the decision wasn't as easy as I made it out to be," Stiles admitted quietly. "Part of me felt like there was no decision to make because I loved Lydia, I knew she loved me, and she was the one I'd always wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But I didn't want to leave you. I didn't want to leave _us_."

"You did, anyway." His face was stoic, hiding how much it still hurt to have been left.

Stiles rubbed a hand over his face. "I know. It didn't seem like you were a choice, not really. I mean, you didn't do the relationship thing, you know? You did sex. We had sex, a lot of it, and it was good. Scratch that, it was fucking fantastic. But I never had a clue that you actually felt anything for me beyond wanting to fuck me."

Derek was quiet, not sure how to approach that. It didn't erase the pain, but it wasn't like he didn't understand where Stiles' decision had come from. Lydia was a sure bet. Derek was a risk. He got that. On the flip side… "I don't know how you couldn't see that I was head-over-heels for you," he replied evenly. "You've known me long enough to know I don't use my words when I can use action instead. I would have thought you could read what I was doing instead of what I wasn't saying."

Stiles considered that. "Maybe I could," he admitted, voice low. "Maybe I was just afraid to be honest with myself because it meant I would have had to turn Lydia down in order to take a chance on us. And, if you know me at all, you know how inconceivable the idea of walking away from Lydia Martin would be."

Derek nodded. He knew Stiles all too well.

"I know I should have said something to you before giving up on us." The words were halting, aching. "I'm sorry I did that to you. To both of us. I caused us both so much pain. I never wanted to let you go, but I couldn't let her go, either."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore," Derek commented dryly. "If Lydia has her way, you'll become the first guy ever to have a girlfriend and a boyfriend at the same time, with permission from both," he added with a smirk. Stiles just stared at him, and he mentally reviewed what he'd just said to figure out what had caused the reaction. Nothing came to mind. "What?"

"That's, uh, the first time you've ever said that," he mumbled, squirming in discomfort.

"Said what?" Derek asked, still not understanding. Stiles flushed, ducking his head.

"You called yourself my boyfriend."

Derek was struck speechless. He hadn't realized how casually he'd thrown out the term, and now that he had, he was surprised at how comfortable he was with it. Stiles was his boyfriend. The thought almost made a giddy smile creep onto his lips, but he willed it back and simply looked back at Stiles blandly. "I am. Aren't I?"

Stiles grinned hugely and threw himself at Derek, wrapping his arms around the wolf's neck and planting an enthusiastic kiss on his mouth. "You bet your fantastic ass you are."

The exuberant embrace made him laugh; he couldn't help it. He'd never been with someone so full of life and energy and pure happiness, and despite his best efforts, Stiles had rubbed off on him in a significant way. _And in more than one_ , he thought to himself with a wry grin.

Derek sank back into the couch and Stiles followed him, leaning across his chest with his head tucked just underneath Derek's chin. His arm came up unthinkingly to wrap over Stiles' collar bone and they fell into a comfortable silence, until Stiles piped up with, "We've never really talked about how much money you have but I know it has to be a lot considering you own this whole building, so, I don't know, do you think maybe you could redecorate again? This stuff sucks."

He twisted his head to look up as Derek glanced down with a wounded pout. "I like my place."

Stiles snorted. "Of course you don't," he objected. "This stuff is all hard and bland and boring. I liked the last decorating scheme a lot better."

Derek glanced around, noting ruefully that Stiles was right. "Maybe the three of us should go shopping," he suggested lightly. "Considering this is home base for us now, we should all be happy with it."

Stiles popped up, gaping at him. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

Frowning, Derek cocked his head. "You keep reacting like I'm saying these stunning things, but I'm not."

"You said 'three of us', and 'all'. You're really into this now, aren't you?"

"What else am I supposed to be?" he asked, baffled. "I agreed to do this."

"But you're thinking long-term," Stiles clarified, leaning into him and pressing a kiss to his jaw. "You're not assuming it's going to fail."

He softened, shaking his head. "No, I'm not assuming it's going to fail," he conceded. Sighing, he slid an arm around Stiles' shoulders and pulled him in. "I love you." No matter how many times he said it, it would never be any less scary, he mused. Or less thrilling. "Lydia loves you. You love us. As weird and complicated as this is for me, those three facts make it simple. I owe it to both of us to try to make this work instead of sabotaging it."

"Thank you," Stiles murmured. "Thank you for trying, for all of us. I know getting to this point hasn't been easy, and it's not going to be much easier anytime soon. It's going to continuously take work. Even in ten years, it's still going to take work. But it'll be worth it."

"Jesus. Ten years? You really think the three of us will make it that far?" A soft huff of laughter blew warm breath against his chest, and Derek glanced down bemusedly. "Care to share?"

"I was just thinking of how far we've already come since the first time you kissed me," Stiles admitted, stroking his thumb over Derek's. "I was terrified you were going to kick my ass and then you were kissing me instead, and my brain was half screaming to run with it and half freaking out because there was no way you meant it."

"I surprised myself," he confessed. "It wasn't like I hadn't had the thoughts before, I just discarded them. I didn't think anything would ever come of them."

"A lot came of them," Stiles joked. "A lot of times."

Derek groaned. "You and your dirty mind." His eyes warmed as Stiles sat up and pulled him in for a lingering kiss.

"You wouldn't change me even if you could," Stiles teased after they broke apart, each taking a much-needed breath.

"No," Derek agreed fondly, sliding his fingers between Stiles' and tangling them together. "I wouldn't change a damn thing."


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: FYI, this chapter starts out with all three of them, but it does eventually become Lyrek only, and it's explicit. I felt it was extremely necessary to show that the trio works on all levels and that meant Derek and Lydia needed their own growth and development, not just with Stiles as a conduit. I know for some people that will be harder to read, so I wanted to give a warning just in case.**

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

Lydia smiled, pleased, as she surveyed her handiwork. "It looks fabulous and you know it."

Derek glanced around, wincing. "It's purple. Really purple."

"And gray," Stiles pointed out, coming up between them and slinging his arms around their waists. "At least she kept to darker tones," he added.

"I look like I live in Barney's stomach," he grumbled. Lydia arched one eyebrow and Stiles' were drawn together in confusion. "Come on," he protested. "I'm not that much older than you two, you have to remember who Barney is."

"What do you mean, Der? You're ancient," Stiles teased.

"Barney was kind of a fuchsia color anyway," Lydia added. "This is definitely more of a plum shade, with grape accents."

"Seriously?" Derek sighed. "My apartment should not be decorated in a color that has shades named for fruit. It should be blue. Or brown. Brown would have been good."

"Brown's boring," Lydia said dismissively. "The plum and pewter is very modern and stylish. I think it looks beautiful."

"Why can't it just be purple and gray?" he muttered grouchily. "Why do they have all these stupid-sounding names, like deep space sparkle and sinnerous?"

"Cinereous," she corrected automatically, and he made a face at her.

"I still think AuroMetalSaurus was the best one," Stiles offered with a grin. "That would have been cool. 'I used AuroMetalSaurus in my loft, what about you?'"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Yes, because the color sounding like a robot dinosaur was a significant factor in choosing what our home looks like."

Two faces turned to him, eyes lit up, and he stared at them. "What?"

"Our home," Lydia said softly. She slid a hand into his and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I think that's the first time we've really called it that."

His heartbeat picked up as he squeezed her fingers. The past few weeks had eased him into their unorthodox relationship and he was starting to feel more relaxed about the non-sexual aspects of their trinity. Although as he flicked his eyes upward to take in the purple-scratch that, _plum_ \- curtains hanging from ceiling to floor, he was less enamored of Lydia's part in it.

Then she tilted her chin up so she could look into his eyes, and that beaming smile made him soften. The purple wasn't so bad. And he didn't really care what the place looked like as long as they were in it with him.

Stiles flopped backward onto the new couch, a deep slate gray color that Derek had actually gotten to have approval on, and sighed. "This is almost as nice as the burgundy one," he announced. "It's not as squishy, but it's still seriously comfortable." He wiggled his ass and gestured to them. "Come on, come sit over here with me."

Derek sank down beside him while Lydia settled herself into his lap, cuddling into his chest while propping her feet in Derek's lap. He absent-mindedly picked one up and started rubbing the arch, massaging his thumbs into it, and she moaned happily. "I never want to leave," she sighed. "Can't we just move in here now?"

"Unfortunately we still have another year of school," Stiles pointed out with a grimace.

"So we have to wait a little while longer," Derek shrugged. "A year isn't that long."

"Well yeah, not when you're a hundred," Stiles cracked, and Derek gave him his patented, "I will eat you" stare. Unfortunately for him, it had lost its effectiveness on Stiles a long time ago. "Seriously, Der, this year might not be a big deal to you, but it is to me. This is the last year between me and freedom."

"It's the last year between us and the rest of our lives," Lydia chimed in.

Stiles' phone chirped and he shifted onto his hip, tilting Lydia toward Derek, so he could dig it out of his pocket. "It's my dad," he announced with a frown. "I have to head home, apparently. We haven't seen each other much lately and he wants to do dinner. I need to make sure he doesn't burn the house down." Derek tugged Lydia into his lap so Stiles could stand, and he snagged his backpack off the floor behind the couch.

Leaning over the back of it, he pressed a kiss to Lydia's upturned mouth and then did the same to Derek, smiling against him when Derek bit lightly into his bottom lip. "Love you both. See you tomorrow."

And then the loft door was sliding shut behind him, and Derek and Lydia looked at each other and realized that for the first time since this all began, it was just the two of them.

At the same time, Lydia realized she was curled up in his lap and she scooted backward until she was on the couch beside him. Derek looked down at her as she cuddled into his side, burrowing her face into his chest almost shyly. He understood; there was an awkward tension in the air that he didn't know how to dispel. As he'd told Stiles, sex was easy-it was the emotional connections he struggled with. Stiles had wormed his way in unexpectedly, though, and he suspected Lydia would soon do the same.

"This is weird, isn't it?" she asked, her lips brushing against his chest.

He chuckled. "Yeah."

Pulling away, she sat up and turned to face him, tucking her knees into her chest. "How is it so easy to have sex, but we can't even talk to each other without Stiles?"

Derek shifted so he was facing her as well. "Because I don't talk?" he replied honestly.

Lydia laughed softly. "You talk to Stiles," she pointed out.

"I love him."

"You didn't love him at first," she reminded him.

He considered that. "I didn't talk to him at first, either," he admitted. "It wasn't much easier to talk to him than it is to talk to you."

"So you and Stiles started out as hot sex and grew to love each other, and you opened up to him. The same will happen with us," she concluded confidently.

He cracked a smile. "How can I refute that kind of optimism?"

She beamed at him. "You can't. I'm always right." She sank back into the couch, watching him cautiously. "Tell me about him."

Derek smirked. "Let me guess, you always rip Band-aids off."

"He never talked about it," she replied with a shrug. "About you, or the two of you together." Sadness crossed her face. "I didn't know how to help him. He was so unhappy, and he tried so hard not to let me see it because he didn't want me to feel guilty."

"I had no idea." Wiping a hand over his face, he leaned back into the couch and stared at the ceiling. "When I kissed him, it was a surprise. I'd had… thoughts in that direction, but I refused to acknowledge them. Then that afternoon when he came over, it just happened. I acted impulsively, for once."

Lydia scoffed and he lifted his head to look over at her suspiciously. "You act impulsively all the time, Derek. It's why you get your ass kicked so often," she added, her tone sugary-sweet.

A scowl twisted his handsome face, but he continued as if she hadn't interrupted. "After that it was easy. Scary, but easy. He fell into my life like he'd always belonged there, like the piece of the puzzle I didn't know was missing." He smiled wistfully. "I didn't want to believe I was in love with him. I was afraid of what would happen if I did. Everyone would make a big deal about us being together, or worse, he'd say he wasn't in love with me, he was just in it for the sex."

"So basically you lived the same anxiety every woman lives when she gets into a new relationship," Lydia surmised. One delicate eyebrow arched and a teasing glint lit her eyes.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" he grumbled.

Chastened, she reached for his hand and tugged it into her lap. "I'm sorry. Go on."

Easing closer to her, Derek looked down at their hands as he turned his palm up and watched her slide hers into it, their fingers linking. It was a deceptively easy, casually intimate moment, and he struggled to remember what he'd been saying. "There isn't much else. I finally admitted to myself that I loved him and wanted to be with him, and it was worth it to take the risk and tell him." His voice faltered at the memory of what came next. "I was in such a good mood when he came over that day."

"A rarity," she acknowledged, nodding. He gave her a deadpan stare and she gestured with her free hand for him to continue.

"I hadn't seen him for a few days and couldn't wait to tell him how I felt. He interrupted me to say he'd slept with you." His face darkened and hers fell. "That's it. I was devastated, but I told myself it was nothing. I'd shake it off. Except I couldn't, so I left."

The finality of his words landed like a stone between them and she didn't speak. The painful memories had risen up and he fell into silence himself, looking inward at those months of misery. Then her other hand closed over their joined ones and he lifted his gaze to meet hers.

"I'm sorry. I was a part of that, but I never knew how much pain I helped cause." Her eyes shimmered and he raised his free hand to cup her cheek.

"Don't, Lyds." The unconscious use of Stiles' nickname for her caused a tremulous smile to curve her lips. "Stiles made his choice because you were always it for him. I never blamed you." Breaking off, he considered his words. "Well, I tried," he amended. "But it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. It was just timing."

Lydia curled into him and he pulled her in, feeling an unexpected need to be close to her. "I wasn't 'it' for him, you know that," she reminded him. "You had such an impact on his life that I never would have been enough, even if he tried for the rest of his life to convince himself that I was."

"But now he has us both."

"Yeah," she agreed, tilting her chin up so she could look into his eyes, smiling tenderly. "He has us both. And now _we_ have each other." Their gazes locked and heat speared through him, catching him by surprise. The scent of her alerted him to the fact that he wasn't the only one feeling the effects of their closeness.

Before he could think about it too deeply, Derek's fingers were sliding through her hair and tugging her head up as he dipped his, and their mouths collided urgently. Their fingers unlinked and he framed her face with his now-free hand, and she rose up onto her knees to lock her arms around his neck.

Derek snaked an arm around her waist and lifted her, and she twisted her legs so that when he deposited her into his lap, her knees gripped his thighs and her core was pressed tightly against his erection. He groaned into her mouth as his tongue swirled around hers, withdrawing long enough for him to suck her lower lip into his mouth, and then advancing again. She rocked against him and scratched her nails lightly across the back of his neck, eliciting a pained hiss.

Her skirt was twisted around her thighs and his hands slid upward from her knees, catching the fabric and pulling as they went until it was gathered around her waist. His large palms cupped her hips and held her tightly against him as his cock swelled into the hollow between her thighs. "Jesus, Lydia," he groaned as her perfectly white teeth sank into his lower lip, biting firmly.

Red hair curled over her shoulders in abandon as she threw her head back and bit her own lip. Derek's fingers found their way under her skirt and into the edge of her silky panties, quickly becoming bathed in her wetness. Whimpers burst from her lips when he eased them inside her, stroking in and out while his thumb caressed her clit. The smell of her arousal was overpowering and he couldn't stand it anymore.

He flipped her off his lap and on her back, leaning over her as his hips dropped to rock into the cradle of her thighs. Her legs came up around his waist and her toes dug into the waistband of his jeans. Derek got the hint and pulled back enough to attack his zipper, and as soon as the fabric was loose her feet were pushing his jeans down his hips and thighs to gather at his knees. He wanted nothing more than to sheathe himself in her tight core, but he broke away from her to tug his jeans the rest of the way off.

When he returned his attention to her, she was gazing up at him in hungry anticipation. Groaning, he slipped inside her, feeling her warmth surround him like a cocoon until he thought he was going to lose his mind. Silken arms twined around his neck and pulled him down for a heated kiss as he drove forward, burying himself inside her. She fit around him like a glove and despite having done the same thing many times in the previous few weeks, it felt different, special.

The look she gave him told him she was feeling it, too. "I didn't know if we'd be able to do this without Stiles," she admitted, just before a cry was ripped from her throat when he pulled back and thrust into her sharply. "I thought he might be the only thing holding us together."

Derek gritted his teeth as he filled her over and over again, his hips pumping roughly. Her knees gripped his hips and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders, hanging on for dear life while he rocked against her. Oddly, thoughts of Stiles were far from his mind at this moment, and the realization stunned him enough to slow his forward motion.

Doubt-filled eyes found his and he hated that he'd put that look in them. For better or worse, Lydia was his now, too, just as much as Stiles was. It took effort to think of anything but the sensations she was eliciting in him, but he smiled at her as he bent his head to slant his lips over hers and sank back into her, pressing forward until he filled her deeply. Her moan filled his mouth and he slid an arm around her back, holding her close as he rolled them into a seated position.

She was biting her lip, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she rode him. Her body rose and fell with every downward thrust, drawing out gasps and cries when his hips collided powerfully with hers. "Oh God, Derek," she whimpered, and he knew she was close. Her aroma was intoxicating; the ability to smell that arousal in such stark relief was one of his favorite parts of being a werewolf.

One hand rose to palm her breast, lifting it to his mouth so his tongue could roll over her hardened nipple. He nipped at it lightly and her cries escalated in volume, drawing him closer to his own release. With a sigh, he transferred his attention to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention he'd just given its twin. Lydia thrust down roughly as she approached the edge of oblivion, and Derek obliged her. One hand slipped between their bodies and his thumb found her clit, rubbing firmly in tight circles.

"Oh my God!" she cried out, doubling over as the orgasm rocked through her. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder as she rode out the aftershocks, shuddering until she lay limply against him. He stopped driving into her, letting her recover. She stayed still for several moments, but as she came back to earth she realized he was still rock hard inside her and began moving her hips again, taking him in deep.

She was slippery wet and he almost slid out of her several times, but the sloppiness just made him want her that much more and he was soon pounding into her rapidly, his breathing becoming harsh and labored. "Fuck," he groaned, feeling the tightening in his testicles that signaled impending release. Long fingers folded over her hips, the tips of them biting into the soft flesh of her ass, and he pulled her down harder as he thrust up one last time before coming apart at the seams.

His cock pulsed, filling her repeatedly with his fluid until he was spent. She slumped against him again, not moving from his lap and seemingly in no hurry to have him out of her. Both their chests rose and fell rapidly as they struggled to get their breathing under control.

When Derek had recovered, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She was yet another unexpected blessing to come into his life, and he was having a hard time believing that he'd been so adamantly opposed to the idea of the three of them. Right now, he couldn't imagine her _not_ being a part of this. He loved Stiles, but they wouldn't be complete without Lydia.

Glancing down, he chuckled softly. "Are you always right about everything?"

To her credit, she didn't even pretend to not know what he was talking about. "Always," she replied sweetly. "Get used to it."

Both arms slid around her waist and tightened, cuddling her close against his chest. "I'm looking forward to it."


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with me on this one. I appreciate more than you know every follow, every favorite, every review, every sign that this story speaks to others besides myself. I know it isn't a popular "pairing", but I knew I couldn't be the only one who saw the beauty and the potential of Sterydia. :) Thank you for joining me on this journey. 3**

"I don't want to go to school tomorrow," Stiles whined as he collapsed on the couch, his long limbs sprawling across all three cushions.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, you've had three whole months off. One more year of high school isn't going to kill you."

He sulked. "A year of high school in Beacon Hills might," he grumbled.

Derek shrugged. "You have a whole pack of werewolves committed to keeping you safe. You'll be fine."

"Two, Derek. I have two werewolves. Isaac doesn't give a rat's ass about me and Ethan and Aiden would rather eat me than protect me."

"You know Scott will keep the two of them in line. They want to be part of a pack so badly they'll do whatever he tells them to do, even if they hate every minute of it," Lydia declared. "You're the best-protected non-supernatural being in Beacon Hills."

He smirked. "At this point I'm actually more worried about passing my senior year than surviving it."

Lydia scoffed. "Please, Stiles. You have me around to tutor you. If you get anything less than straight A's I will be personally insulted." She reached into her bag and pulled out a pre-calculus book. "We can get started now, if you want. You're taking pre-calc this year, right?"

Derek laughed at the look of disgust mixed with horror on Stiles' face. "I think the last thing he wants to do is look at a textbook right now, Lydia. School starts in fourteen hours. Let's give him one more night, stress-free."

She hmmphed, stowing the book back in her bag before giving Stiles a stern look. "Schoolwork is going to be a priority this year," she warned him.

Stiles groaned and covered his eyes with his arm, leaning back into the couch cushions. "I can break up with you, you know," he threatened, and Derek reached over and smacked him across the back of the head.

"Shut up, Stiles. I can't believe you could even say that with a straight face," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Stiles lifted his arm off one eye and peeked out from underneath it. "Me either," he admitted sheepishly. "You know I love you, Lyds."

"Damn right you do." She reclined into the couch and cast Derek a speculative look. "So what are you going to be doing this year while we're in school all day?"

"Brood," Stiles supplied helpfully, and Derek smirked at him.

"Actually, I, um." He faltered, not sure how they were going to react to his announcement. "I got a job at the school." Their eyes popped open simultaneously, wide as owls, and he winced.

"What on earth could you possibly be qualified to do?" Stiles blurted out, and Derek made a face at him.

"Head basketball coach," he mumbled, coloring slightly. "Coach Finstock is being spread really thin this year and needed some help. Basketball was the one thing he was most okay giving up, and he recommended me to take over."

Stiles groaned. "This means we're going to see you at school every day and not be allowed to touch you."

Lydia frowned. "Isn't there a legal issue here?" she asked. "You'll be having sex with students."

Derek shook his head. "You're both eighteen, I'm not actually a teacher, and neither of you is on the basketball team."

"Still, I think it would be best if we continued to keep this quiet," she replied, clearly unnerved by the idea. "I don't want you getting in trouble, and I certainly don't want any scandal attached to my name while I'm applying to schools."

The off-hand mention of college had a visible effect on Stiles, who looked uncomfortable and anxious. Derek realized he would be uncertain of his place in Lydia's life when she left. "Where are you thinking of applying?" he asked, hoping to help put Stiles' mind at ease.

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "The Ivies, of course. Stanford, Duke, Georgetown, NYU, MIT."

All the schools she rattled off were top-tier, as Derek expected, but he felt dread overtaking him. "All of those schools are on the East Coast," he said quietly. "Except Stanford."

Lydia glanced from one somber face to the other before letting out a breathless little laugh. "If you two think I'm leaving you behind, you're both crazy," she stated firmly. "Wherever I go, you're going too. If that means I go to a different school, I don't care. There are good schools all over the country."

The relief on Stiles' face was mirrored on his own, Derek was certain. "We'll go wherever you want," he replied. "We wouldn't dream of holding you back." He glanced at Stiles to gauge his reaction, though he felt confident speaking for the both of them.

He wasn't disappointed, as Stiles was nodding his head vigorously. "Absolutely, Lydia. You're going to do great things, so we'll go wherever you need us to."

She bit her lip. "I was also sort of thinking about maybe the School of Mines," she offered hesitantly. "They have a fantastic applied mathematics program and I could double-major in biochemistry."

Derek huffed out a laugh at the blank look Stiles was giving her. "She's smart," he clarified helpfully, and Stiles made a face at him.

"No shit, Sherlock." He rubbed his hands together. "So, where are we going?"

"Colorado."

"But Colorado is _cold_ ," he protested automatically.

Lydia shook her head. "Sweetie, anyplace that isn't California is going to be cold to you," she pointed out with a grin. "Unless we do Arizona or Texas, and I'm sorry, but no."

"Besides, Colorado is beautiful," Derek added mildly, "and the mountains are great for hiking and skiing."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh great, things I don't excel at even a little bit," he sniped.

"You'll like it more than you think you will," Derek reassured him. "And it's only cold in the winter. You'll probably love it in the summer."

Stiles heaved a long-suffering sigh. "If that's where you want to go, you know I'm there," he conceded. "But Duke is sounding better and better all the time."

"North Carolina has hurricanes," Lydia reminded him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation.

"This country's weather patterns suck," he groused, and she laughed.

"Derek's right, you'll love Colorado." She grinned mischievously. "Besides, think of mountain cabins, cozy fires, and the three of us cuddled together for extra warmth."

He brightened, and Derek shook his head in fond amusement. "Apparently you've sold him on the idea," he remarked dryly.

"Sex is a powerful motivator," Stiles acknowledged with a sheepish shrug. He slid a hand around Lydia's waist and pulled her closer. "Speaking of which…"

She laughed and pushed him away playfully. "We have to be at the school in just a few hours, remember? I'm certainly not going in for Senior Scribe with post-sex hair."

"That's what showers are for," he cajoled, and she stared him down.

"Four hours is _not_ enough time for us to have sex _and_ for me to shower and re-do my hair and makeup," she protested.

Derek watched the exchange with interest, hoping Stiles would win the argument. When it appeared he was losing, Derek decided to step in. He lifted himself out of the charcoal-colored recliner and eased down onto the arm of the couch, next to Lydia. She glanced up at him warily and he employed the wicked smile he knew neither of them could resist. "By the time you two get done with Senior Scribe, it'll be too late for you to come back here," he reasoned. "Don't you want to start your senior year off with a bang?"

Lydia groaned at the horrible pun. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?" she realized with a fatalistic sigh.

"You win almost everything, Lydia," he returned easily, his eyes warm. "Everyone has to lose sometimes."

She gave a melodramatic sigh and then proceeded to lift her top over her head, tossing it over the back of the couch with a beaming grin. "I usually don't like to lose, but I think this time I can make an exception."

The scent of Stiles' desire flaring made him groan, and he could feel his jeans getting tighter as he watched his boyfriend close the distance between himself and Lydia, dipping his head to take one erect nipple between his lips. Her arousal spiked instantly and Derek swore their names would be listed under "cause of death" on his death certificate someday. He'd been with women where the sex was heady, powerful, but never this intoxicating. He'd never had this nonstop need, this _craving_ , that he had for the pair of teens who had slipped under his skin and taken over what felt like his entire existence.

Derek watched as Stiles and Lydia kissed, their embrace easy and affectionate while still overflowing with passion and desire. He itched to tackle Stiles' jeans, to unbutton them and slowly slide the zipper down, to feel the lift of his hips while he allowed Derek to tug them down his legs. He wanted to see the outline of his erection in the briefs he'd begun wearing when he realized how much Derek preferred them. He wanted to feel that velvety soft hardness on his tongue, between his lips, inside his fist.

But he wanted to watch, first.

He watched as Stiles' fingers slipped under the hem of Lydia's skirt, dragging the material up her soft, silky thighs, and he swallowed hard when Lydia's hand joined Stiles', helping him pull the material up faster. Her hips shimmied slightly and Stiles took the hint, lifting his hand from her skin and hooking his finger in the waistband of the skirt. Derek eased in beside her and unzipped the back of it so she could lift her hips and Stiles could tug it down her legs.

When the skirt was off her legs spread automatically, and Stiles wasted no time in dropping to his knees between them, palms on her thighs, thumbs running over the sensitive inner skin. She shuddered, head dropping back onto the couch, eyes locking on Derek's as he hovered over her with a slight smile on his lips. Hers parted and Derek swooped down, capturing her mouth under his as Stiles' tongue disappeared between her silky folds. He swallowed her gasps as Stiles worked his tongue into her, his own lips brushing over her clit as he stroked, fingers joining his mouth to bring her to the edge.

Before she could come, she pushed Stiles away and Derek pulled back. "I need one of you in me," she demanded, her voice breathy. "Fuck me."

"Happy to oblige," Stiles replied cheekily, and Derek and Lydia both rolled their eyes at him. Derek watched as Stiles stripped quickly and lay back on the carpet (they almost never made it to the bed), and Lydia slid off the couch to straddle him. They wasted no time before Lydia sank down onto him, his cock disappearing into her with ease, and her palms were flat against his chest as she lifted her hips and dropped down while Stiles drove up into her.

The zipper on his jeans began to feel ridiculously tight and he slid it down impatiently, aching for relief from the strain of his cock against the denim. Stiles' gaze flickered with interest to where Derek was reaching into his own underwear to stroke himself. His mouth fell open as Lydia continued to ride him, and Derek saw a marvelous opportunity.

Sinking to his own knees, he eased down over Stiles' face and groaned when Stiles immediately reached up to close his lips around Derek's cock. Derek's balls hit Stiles' cheek as he filled the younger man's mouth and throat, and he only choked a little. His gag reflex had improved significantly during the time the two of them had been fucking the hell out of each other, and now he could deep-throat almost without needing to breathe.

"Jesus, Stiles," Lydia moaned, and Derek tore his attention from the sight of his cock disappearing into Stiles' mouth to watch Lydia's movements. Her hair was tumbled around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her eyes closed. One hand had come up to play with her nipple while the thumb and forefinger of her other hand wrapped around Stiles where they joined. She squeezed him as she slammed back down on him, staving off the orgasm Derek could tell was impending.

"I want to taste him," he broke in, and both Lydia's and Stiles' eyes popped back open to stare at him. He smiled, pulling back from Stiles' greedy mouth and scooting down his body, inhaling the scent of them mixed together. _His_. His pack, his mates, his _partners_. He'd known he was nothing before, he just hadn't understood it was because he didn't have them yet. He'd been nothing without them. He was everything with them.

The way they often looked at him, at each other, told him they both knew that.

Lydia slowed the rolling of her hips so she could ease off of Stiles, and Derek closed the distance between them immediately. He bent his head and took Stiles into his mouth, the flavor of Lydia bursting onto his tongue, and he could smell the fresh heat rolling through both of them. Mumbled curses tripped off of Stiles' tongue as his hand fisted in Derek's hair, tugging less than gently as Derek continued to bob his head, swallowing Stiles and licking the taste of Lydia from his length in turns.

"Fuck, Derek, I'm going to come," Stiles grated out, gasping, and then Lydia was there, locking her lips onto Stiles', and they licked and sucked at each other for a few brief seconds until Stiles jerked, come spilling down Derek's throat. Derek swallowed through every spurt until Stiles was finally drained, and Derek was hard, red, dripping, and aching with need.

He was ready to take himself in hand and stroke himself to completion, something he enjoyed doing while watching Stiles and Lydia (though they rarely gave him the opportunity), when Lydia grabbed his hand and tugged him on top of her. She lay back, looking up at him with innocently wide, yet somehow wicked eyes, and he slipped inside her without another thought.

He stroked forward, bracing himself above her while her eyes fluttered shut with bliss, rocking into her steadily, and she cried out on every thrust. Derek's arms trembled with the need to let go, to come inside her and fill her with his seed. He knew she was on birth control, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about one day being the head of his own pack again, a pack made of family. Stiles and Lydia had given him that, the hope that he would have his own children and be part of a large family again.

Thoughts of their future children flew from his mind when he could feel Stiles moving behind him, spreading his cheeks, and Derek shuddered. "What are you doing?" he croaked, his throat dry as Lydia squirmed underneath him, lifting her hips to meet his as she got closer to her own release.

"Something I've always wanted to try," Stiles admitted. His lips pressed against the tight ring and Derek nearly came just from the feather-light touch. "Is this okay?"

"Fuck, yes," he ground out.

Stiles needed no more encouragement and his tongue flicked out, tracing the edges of Derek's hole, and Derek had to bite down on his cheek to keep from spilling himself into Lydia. She grinned up at him, her mouth closing with difficulty as it tended to fall open during her gasps and moans, and he leaned in to part her lips again, licking into her and feeling her teeth against his tongue.

Stiles has progressed to driving his tongue into Derek's ass, and he shuddered reflexively. "Fuck, Stiles, you're going to kill me," he gritted out breathlessly, and he could feel Stiles smile against him before diving back in, licking and thrusting until Derek could feel that squeezing sensation in his groin, the heat and the pressure as his release swelled inside him, and he barely had time to reach between them and thumb at Lydia's clit before he was splintering.

He came inside her, his vision shrinking to a tiny black pinprick as the fast, hot rush of semen filled her, and her lips parted to release breathy sobs through the next several thrusts. When he finally collapsed against her, body trembling lightly from the intensity of his orgasm, she clutched at him, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

"Fuck," Stiles mumbled, flopping over onto his back. Derek rolled off of Lydia, landing in the space between them, and they both curled into his sides as he slid his arms around them, pressing a kiss against Stiles' head, then one to Lydia's. "Have I mentioned before that I love you both? Because I totally do."

"We love you, too," Lydia replied. "Case in point, I agreed to this even though it means I'm going to have to shower, redo my hair and my makeup, and come up with a new outfit." She rolled away from Derek, searching out the clock and frowning slightly when she realized what time it was. "I need to get in the shower now, as a matter of fact."

"We could join you," Stiles offered, and Derek snorted even as Lydia rolled her eyes.

"The last thing I need is you two distracting me from getting ready," she sniffed, but she was smiling gently, and Derek thought to himself that it was a beautiful look for her. He was grateful he'd been allowed to get to know, to have, this side of her.

They watched as she got up and padded upstairs to the bathroom, Stiles still snuggling into Derek's side, fingers lazily circling his nipples. "I could go for round two," he said offhandedly, and Derek laughed.

"Lydia would kill us."

Stiles shrugged, his shoulder digging into Derek's ribs. "I can shower and get ready in five minutes flat. I could fuck you twice and still be ready before she's done with her hair."

"You want to fuck me, huh?" he asked in amusement, and Stiles colored slightly.

"I may have had a fantasy or two about it," he admitted, glancing up at Derek. "Would that bother you? I mean, are you too Alpha to submit to me?"

"The thing about alphas is, sometimes we like someone else taking charge for once," he remarked, looking down at Stiles as he registered the meaning of the words. A disbelieving grin spread across his face before it subtly changed into something seeking, challenging.

His hand slid down, fingertips trailing over Derek's abs until they reached his cock. It lay heavy between his legs, thick even in its flaccid state, but as Stiles' hand closed over it, it began to stir to life once more. "Lydia will forgive us," he murmured, eyes twinkling, and Derek exhaled on a soft laugh.

"Something tells me this is not the last time I will hear you say that," he mused, although his tone gave no doubt to the fact that he was happy at the thought.

Stiles threw one leg over Derek's thighs, his fist stroking lazily up and down Derek's growing erection. "Not even close," he agreed.

Derek closed his eyes, relaxing into the feel of Stiles' hand on him. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Both of you."

He could feel Stiles' confusion and opened his eyes to see the quizzical look being directed his way. "Sure, of course. What for?"

Derek reached over, sliding his hand into Stiles' hair, gently guiding his head up so their mouths could meet. It was brief, gentle, but Derek poured his whole heart into it. "For being everything I never knew I needed."

 **A/N 2: If you like Sterek by themselves, FYI, there's more to come from me. I have about 80k of unposted stuff that's going to be posted within the next couple weeks, and I love pretty much every word of it. :)**


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